Giddy Up, Sheriff
by CabooseHeart
Summary: Saloonatics AU. With a new sheriff trio patrolling the town, Edward Gold thinks that it's about time that he and his partners learn how to ride a horse. Cue Thompson, despite being a westerner, being incapable of riding a horse, Edward trying to force feed a horse Cola, and Matthew having a few tricks up his sleeves.
**Giddy Up, Sheriff**

 **Description: Saloonatics AU. With a new sheriff trio patrolling the town, Edward Gold thinks that it's about time that he and his partners learn how to ride a horse. Cue Thompson, despite being a westerner, being incapable of riding a horse, Edward trying to force feed a horse Cola, and Matthew having a few tricks up his sleeves. In other news, Thompson deals with alcoholism and Edward tries to figure out just how he can help him feel better.**

 **A/N: Wow, that's a bunch of comments (At least from my AO3 fans)! I never imagined that I'd get such a big response from the Eddsworld fandom for more, but hey, I ain't complaining. So here's more! Please R &R (Read and Review)!**

…

"Edward, you know that I ain't one to do no complainin', but… when the need arises, it arises," Thompson says, voice slightly shaky as he stares unabashedly at the three animals before him. "Now, if y'all want a real helpful animal, how about we get 'rselves a dog or somethin' similar?"

"Oh, come now, Tom-Tom," Matthew urges, already eyeing one of the horses in particular, it having a long, golden mane. "This could be quite fun! You know, I've ridden horses plenty of times before… I've even ridden your's on several occasions!" He adds this last part with a tink.

"Come off it, Princely!" Thompson snaps, glaring halfheartedly at the ginger. "Keep 'at up and you won't be riddin' nothin' ever 'gain!"

"Can't you two get along for even one day?" Edward asks, only to be ignored. He rolls his eyes when Thompson isn't looking, unable to hide his amusement from seeing them argue. They're like an old married couple! "This will be fun, Thompson. I promise."

"It had better be, boy," Thompson growls, calling Edward 'boy' despite the other brunet actually being a few years old than him. "Or you'll be one sorry 'etective."

With that mild threat now delivered, Thompson takes a minute to really eye the horse that's been presented to him. Since Edward and Matthew have moved in with Thompson at his place (He has an old house a little ways away from town) it means that Edward had to sell his old house in England. And what did he do with the money left over? Why, buy three useless horses of course! Honestly, Thompson wants no part of this nonsense. He's never ridden a horse in his life, despite being a westerner. He comes from a poorer family, one that had dropped him off in the town at seven years old with nothing but a broken open pineapple, a coconut, a ripped open eye, a pistol, and enough tears to fill an ocean.

At least, that's what the older folk tell Thompson. He doesn't really remember who his parents are- for awhile, he thought it was the pineapple and coconut- but it's not like he cares too much. He raised himself, once he had gotten over… whatever it was that led him to this town. Thompson, from an early age, had been a fully independent man; he even had a box house and everything! Shaking those thoughts away, Thompson steels himself mentally. He can't be daydreaming at a time like this; he needs to pretend he can actually ride a horse, or else his lovers will laugh at him and unintentionally make him feel like garbage.

Thompson slowly approaches the horse Edward got for him, swallowing around a lump in his throat. "You alright over there, love?" Matthew asks from beside Thompson, making the sheriff jump.

Thompson looks up at Matthew, unable to hide the surprised look on his face when he sees that not only has Matthew managed to get onto the horse, but he's managing to somehow stay on it without falling off. "What's the matter? Never ridden a horse before, dear?" Matthew presses further, trying to get Thompson to get riding already.

"'A 'course I have!" Thompson growls, glaring with all his might up at Matthew. "And I can proves it, too! Just you watch, Princely. I'll show ya how we do things 'round 'ere!"

Thompson knows that he's made a terrible mistake as soon as he gets his hands on the saddle, but for the love of God, he will NOT let himself be bested by that no good city slicker, prince charming, Englishman! So, it's no wonder that Thompson chokes down on his fear as he climbs aboard the stallion, ignoring his inner terror as the animal just gives him this _look_ \- it's about to give him Hell. It's not immediate- the horse at least lets Thompson get a good grip on it- but soon enough, the horse starts bucking. It's slow at first, just little huffs from the horse's mouth as it disagrees with the man riding on it, before the stallion starts believing itself to be a bull, kicking and neighing and rampaging with poor Sheriff Thompson still, by some miracle, holding on.

"Um… should we help him?" Edward questions, giving Matthew a very concerned look. "He could get really hurt on that thing… oh, I knew this was a bad idea!"

Matthew waves Edward off, giving the young detective a sly grin. "Oh, don't blame yourself, old chap! Some people just aren't meant to ride horses. Besides, what could we possibly do to help him? That horse wouldn't stop if there were free sugar cubes about!"

Edward nods, though he still looks concerned for Thompson, who's long since lost his hat and boots from the horse's temper tantrum. "Still, I'm pretty sure that buying those horses may have been a bit of a bad idea on my part… I should've known that someone would get hurt!"

"He'll be fine," Matthew promises, and just at that moment, Thompson loses his grip on the horse's saddle, going flying through the air and landing, ironically, right onto Matthew's lap on his horse. "See, sweetheart? I told you he would be fine," He looks down at Thompson though, a concerned look on his face. "You… are alright, right love?"

"Five more minutes, pop…" Thompson drawls out, looking nauseous as he struggles to keep down his breakfast. "Lord, I need 'myself a drink."

"I don't think anyone needs to do any drinking tonight, dear… including your horse, Edward." Matthew gives the detective a sly smirk when he says his name.

Edward flinches, caught in the act as he prepares to bottle-feed his horse Cola. "I-I-I just thought that it could h-help him! That's all! I mean, Cola did wonders for me; surely it will make Ringo here faster and stronger, too!"

"What kinda _*erp*_ name is Ringo, huh?" Thompson asks, giving Edward a very judgemental look from his spot in Matthew's lap, not appearing very bothered by his current position. "And you don't need to feed no 'mammals people drinks, boy!"

"Ringo is a fantastic name, and why can't I give Ringo some Cola? I mean, everybody needs a 'lil something, right?" Edward argues, quoting Thompson's old saying.

"People need a 'lil somethin', ya moron!" Thompson growls, rolling his eye at Edward's ridiculous idea. "Now enough 'a this nonsense! Princely, let me down! I'mma get me a whiskey 'fore sundown. Liquor costs more at night; that's when the townsfolk 'round 'ere swing."

"Don't you want to try again, love? It seems your horse has calmed down," Matthew points out, trying to convince Thompson to not give up. "I'm sure if you give it another try, your horse will be as tame as a bunny-rabbit by tomorrow morning."

Thompson just scowls at Matthew. "You want to face da facts already, Princely? I can't ride nothin'! I ain't ever ridden no pony, no ass, no nothin'! There, ya happy!?" He breathes raggedly afterwards, looking tuckered out by his own outburst.

Matthew's face softens, and he runs his hands through Thompson's hair. "Oh, Tom-Tom," He murmurs, and Thompson wants to shoot him for talking in such a soft voice to him, but he manages to keep himself from doing so. "Why didn't you say so, love? How about this; when we take our horses for a ride, you can ride with me! After all, we need someone to be ready to shoot if something goes wrong."

"I can return your's, Thompson," Edward adds, trying to make Thompson feel better about the whole thing. "I'm sure someone in town will buy him."

"Not everyone can tame a horse," Matthew assures, smiling hopefully down at Thompson. "I don't think any less of you for not succeeding. In fact, I'm very proud of you for trying!"

Thompson looks away, crossing his arms as he blushes. "Had ta try 'n keep up my image… couldn't 'jus get up and leave…"

"Edward will sell the horse," Matthew promises, kissing Thompson's forehead. "Just wait, my love. Everything will be fine. You'll see!"

…

It's midnight when Edward gets back from selling the horse. The house doesn't have any lights on when he approaches, so he figures that Thompson must be asleep. Matthew stayed behind in the town- something about needing to talk to some folks about a surprise- leaving Edward to make the walk home alone. The house is dead quiet when he enters, every step he makes sounding louder than thunder. He keeps his mouth shut as he goes into the kitchen, finding a few empty bottles of whiskey on the table. Crap. He hurries upstairs, finding Sheriff Thompson in their bedroom, appearing unconscious in their shared bed.

He looks peaceful when he's asleep. Thompson's eyepatch is gone, discarded and left on the nightstand, leaving his left eye-socket empty, black, and scarred. It's like someone, at one time, had forcefully dug his eye out of it's socket. Thompson's blue jacket and jeans are gone too, leaving him only in a blue shirt and white boxers with red stripes on them. He's out cold, smelling of whiskey, and if Edward would have to guess, he'd say that Thompson drank himself stupid and passed out. It's odd, since Thompson hasn't drunk himself unconscious in awhile; not since he, Edward, and Matthew got together, anyhow.

Quietly, Edward tiptoes forward, looking Thompson over fearfully. "...Thompson? Are you alright, darling?" He hardly ever calls him 'darling', since it tends to piss Thompson off so damn much, but Edward sometimes calls him by the nickname when he's drunk or emotional. Or both.

Thompson stirs, but doesn't fully wake up. He rolls over, facing Edward's designated side of the bed. Quickly, Edward throws off his pants, vest, and shirt, crawling into bed so he can hold Thompson against his chest. Thompson murmurs something in his sleep at Edward, though the Brit unfortunately doesn't understand what he says. Out of concern, Edward hugs Thompson a little tighter, wanting nothing more than to soothe the sheriff's worries. When Edward and Thompson first met, it was Edward who needed all the help when it came to both shooting and crime fighting, but now the tables have turned.

Thompson, whether he likes it or not, struggles with emotions. It's not that he doesn't feel anything- he actually feels a lot more than most people Edward has met- it's that he doesn't know how to handle his feelings safely. When he gets angry, he loses his temper and gets himself or someone else hurt. When Thompson gets sad, he either turns it into anger and freaks out, or he runs off and hides in a corner somewhere until it's over. Edward figures that Thompson must've not have had a very good home life as a kid, but so far, nothing about his home life has come up. It will take time before Thompson fully opens up, probably.

"I've got you, darling," Edward whispers, focusing on Thompson again instead of on his many worries. "Don't worry; I've got you."

Thompson murmurs something again, and this time, his undamaged eye cracks open a bit, staring directly at Edward. He says nothing at first, but soon, he relaxes in Edward's hold, getting a bit closer to him on the bed. "What happened?" Thompson questions after awhile, sounding tired and lazy. "When 'id you get home… where's Princely?"

"You mean Matthew? He's in town still. He needs to get something," Edward explains, running his hands up and down Thompson's back. "Were you drinking again, mate? I found you in here out cold… is something the matter?"

"It's nothin' you need ta be concerned 'bout," Thompson promises, burying his face in Edward's neck. "I just… want it ta be quiet for a spell, alright?"

"Anything you need, Thompson. Go back to sleep; you've had a long day." Edward says, even though he's still not sure what's wrong. Thompson will tell him when he's ready, he figures.

Thompson nods, and soon enough, he's asleep again, snoring softly while Edward hugs him. Eventually, Edward falls asleep too, but not until he's sure Thompson will sleep soundly through the night. He can only hope that Matthew's promised 'Surprise' can maybe cheer Thompson up.

…

The next morning, Edward wakes up first, finding Thompson to still be asleep after last night's events. With light now streaming in through the windows, it gives him the chance to get a look around the bedroom. It's a mess, with both Thompson and his own clothes strewn out all over the floors and on the end of the bed. Slowly and silently, Edward sets to work tidying up, collecting the clothes to put in the laundry basket to be washed and hung to dry later on in the day. It's Sunday, meaning that the town should be quiet today. It gives Edward, Thompson, and Matthew the chance to have a day to themselves.

Speaking of Matthew, he isn't in the bedroom. Edward figures either Matthew got home late and woke up early, slept on the couch, or hasn't come home yet. That last thought is more than a little disturbing. Double checking to make sure Thompson isn't awake yet, Edward sneaks downstairs, checking the couch to see if Matthew is there. Success. The ginger prince is out like a light on the couch, strewn out over the throw pillows in all of his clothes still. Smiling, Edward pulls a blanket over Matthew, tucking him in before heading into the kitchen to start on breakfast. He figures some hot eggs and bacon might be a good start for the trio today.

As soon as Edward has the bacon frying, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs. They stop momentarily- Thompson's probably staring at Matthew- before continuing down the stairs to stop again in the doorway of the kitchen. Edward pretends not to notice Thompson in the doorway, whistling a soft melody under his breath as he cooks. Slowly, Thompson approaches, loosely wrapping his arms around Edward's middle, leaning up on his tiptoes to peck the detective on the cheek. Edward hums, not saying anything more as he starts on the eggs. Thompson stays like that, dead quiet and half awake while leaning on Edward's back.

"You alright, darling?" Edward asks, voice quiet, as to not disturb the early morning calmness.

"Mph." Thompson's voice is muffled against Edward's back, and his breath on his skin makes him shiver. Edward bites his lip; he really doesn't want to have sex right now, not while he's worried about Thompson and his well-being.

"Not right now, Thompson," Edward whispers, refusing to look away from the food he's cooking. "I… I'm still worried about you. After last night… I can't stop worrying."

"I'm fine, city slicker," Thompson assures, frowning against his lover's back. "You don't gotta worry 'bout me none."

"Morning, sunshines," Matthew chirps, making both Edward and Thompson jump in surprise. The ginger stops halfway into the kitchen, grinning at his two partners. "Ooooo~ and what are you two getting up to this morning? And without me?"

"We're not going to be having any sex, if that's what you're implying," Edward says, only half focusing on breakfast while he talks to Matthew. "Breakfast is almost done. How about you set the table, hm?"

"Me? Set the table? Do I look like a commoner to you?" Matthew asks, and when Edward smirks at him, eyeing how the ginger is wearing Edward's hat, the prince huffs and pouts in defeat. "I rest my case." He mutters childishly, slowly beginning to set the table.

Edward chuckles, shaking his head as Thompson falls asleep against him while Matthew gets the table ready. Just a typical morning for the town's sheriff and deputies.

…

"Keep your eyes closed, lovely…" Matthew orders as he leads Thompson by the hand to an unknown location, Edward right beside him.

"Fer half 'a me, that ain't exactly an option," Thompson admits, using his one free hand to sloppily cover his right eye, his footsteps quick and worried. "You'd best not me trickin' me, Princely."

"It's not a trick, Thompson. After yesterday, Matthew and me talked about getting you something that might help with the whole horse situation," Edward explains, unable to hide his excitement. "I really hope you'll like it… Matthew picked it out special, just for you."

"Boys," Thompson says, sounding almost sad. "Fer da last time, I am no horse-riddin' cowboy! I'm a gunslinger. I 'ppreciate your boy's concern, but I gots ta tell ya 'at-"

"-Okay, open up, love!" Matthew suddenly shouts, grabbing Thompson's other hand and forcing his eye open to see his gift.

Thompson goes quiet, staring up in surprise at his present. It's a young donkey, looking maybe two to two and a half years old in age, with one eye missing- it's right eye. The eye socket is covered by an eyepatch, covering the wound, leaving Thompson to wonder how the ass lost it's eye to begin with. It's already got a saddle strapped onto it, with two bags on either side of the saddle for holding items of personal interest. Carefully and hesitantly, Thompson tiptoes closer, not at all wanting a repeat of yesterday's disaster. He stares then at Matthew, who looks very proud of himself indeed, the ginger grinning from ear to ear at the sheriff.

"Ta da!" Matthew cheers, stepping forward to pat the ass's side. "I figured that since a horse didn't quite suit you, perhaps a smaller animal would do! Why not give him a ride?"

"I, um…" Thompson hesitates again, before swallowing his pride and grabbing ahold of the saddle, pulling himself up onto the donkey.

The ass doesn't even blink, unaffected by Thompson getting onto it. So far so good, Thompson thinks, putting his feet where they belong in the harnesses on the saddle. He breathes uneasily, more than a little scared of getting thrown again. But this ass is rather tame, much less provocative than the stallion he had tried and failed to ride yesterday. Almost naturally, Thompson pats the donkey's side, and it begins to walk in a slow trot around the house. Edward and Matthew follow along on their own horses, having them both go slow so that they can stay with Thompson. The sheriff grin as he rides, overjoyed by his success.

"I-It's working!" Thompson declares, laughing loudly in amazement. "I haven't done fallen 'r anythin'! I'm really ridin' it!"

"You're doing incredible, Thompson!" Edward cheers, riding alongside the sheriff. He can't help but feel like a real cowboy now!

With a newfound confidence, Thompson gives the donkey a light kick with his foot, sending the ass running. It's not nearly as fast as a horse, but it's the fastest Thompson's ever gone before in his life, that's for sure! Matthew and Edward stay behind on their horses to watch from afar. "He's taking it very well, much better than I had hoped," Matthew admits, sharing a smile with Edward. "To be honest, I feared that he may have been afraid of horses and donkeys. It seems I was mistaken."

"Yeah… he's doing really well," Edward agrees, watching Thompson go faster and faster on his mighty steed, oblivious to the outside world. "He seemed kind of depressed last night, but… I think he's doing better today."

Matthew raises an eyebrow in surprise at that. "Depressed? Why was he depressed? … Did I do something wr-"

"No!" Edward interrupts, not wanting Matthew to take the blame for all of this. "By the queen, Matthew, it's not your fault! … But I think that Thompson isn't telling us something," He shrugs, brushing his worries off. "Oh well… I'm sure he'll tell us what's wrong when he's ready…"

…

 **A/N: And there's another installment into my awful OT3 Saloonatics AU! It's a little longer than the last one-shot, thankfully, but now I'm not sure what to do next. Should there be more Saloonatics OT3 shenanigans? Should I write for the regular Eddsworld crew? Send me some prompts if you'd like for either or (I might even take smut, but be warned, I'm a moron when it comes to that shit)! Please R &R (Read and Review)!**

 **~Supercasey.**


End file.
